Found My Reason
by aixla
Summary: Oz finds new meaning for his life.


Title: Destiny 1/1  
Author: Ailie McFarland  
E-Mail: aixla@juno.com  
Rating: PG  
Fandom: BtVS/AtS  
Timeline: Right now, but no real spoilers.  
Disclaimer: I don't own Oz. Or BtVS. Or even AtS. If I was things would be a helluva lot different this season.  
Archive: http://www.geocities.com/aixla/buffy.html (eventually. I'm a little behind).  
Distribution: Oh! Well, if it helps at all, I'm gonna say yes.  
  
Summary: Oz finds meaning for his life.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
I've done it all; climbed the thousand steps to speak to the Holy Man of the Most Sacred Mountain, studied meditation techniques with the monks of Nepal, learned magical incantations from the Swamis. In Romania I ate the sexual organs of a female bat while the elder woman of the village chanted to bind the demon within me. Through this I have finally learned to control the wolf, keep it from taking over my mind and body with the changes of the moon, or my mood.  
  
But I still live in a cage. My life has been wrapped in chains since the day I was bitten. For so many years the wolf dictated where I lived, what I did, even whom I loved. So now that I'm free of it, I don't know what to do with myself.   
  
I know what I want to do. I want to go back to Sunnydale, and live with Willow happily ever after. But my life seems to be more like the original version of Grimm's tales than the watered down crap that kids get force-fed to them these days. Willow has moved on with her life. I've talked to her occasionally, even dropped in to see her once or twice. She's happy with Tara, and I'm happy for her. But there's no way I could live there again. Besides, it wouldn't be fair to her. She deserves to have the best life, and having me there ... I'd probably just get in the way.  
  
So what do I do now? It's funny, nobody knows. I went back to the Holy Man, to the monks and the swamis. They all say the same thing, that they have guided me as far as they can, and now I must choose my own path. All that's left is this aimless wandering. I wake up each day hoping that somehow I'll stumble across something that might point me in some sort of direction.   
  
That's how I ended up here, actually. Just kinda stumbled across the place. Maybe it's because I lived on the Hellmouth so long or something, I dunno. But I seem to have no problems finding the weird and unusual. And this place is definitely both.   
  
But from what I've gleaned from the conversations around me, I may finally be in the right place. I hope so. The wanderlust is gone, and I'm ready to settle down somewhere. Not that I'll ever have any kind of a normal life, in fact, I don't really want a normal life. What I'm really looking for is a purpose, a reason. Because Willow was my reason.  
  
But that's beside the point. Right now, I need to focus. Because this ... this thing that I'm about to do ... is probably the most difficult task of my life. Definitely the most frightening. And the one thing that I'm not sure is possible for me to do.  
  
"Time is healing, I'm ahead. Find a reason once again. Take a moment out of time. I'll be standing back behind."  
  
There's a reason Devon was the singer and I played guitar. A damn good one. It's not that I can't sing. I love to sing ... in the shower, or in my room when I'm writing tunes. But not in front of people. My legs get all quivery, and that shaky feeling goes right up to my vocal chords. Not that it really matters, because this metal band tightens up around my chest and I can't breathe anyway. And breathing is kinda central to the whole singing process. But I'm desperate, so I'm singing. In public. At least I'm managing to stay somewhat in the right key ... most of the time.  
  
"On a wing, so out of line. Taken in, so out of time. All it takes is living. I want to fly. I've never known fate. I've never known your name. I've never known fate. Sound the season in my head. I'll be better off ...again"  
  
I really had to think about what I was gonna sing up here. So many choices. Well, not really. It had to be a Dingoes song. There was no way I was going to stand on a stage singing words off a computer monitor. At least with my guitar in my hand I'm retaining some shred of dignity as a musician. Plus it's like Linus and his blanket; I just feel better holding it.  
  
Besides, the selection kinda sucked. It was either Dingoes or Meatloaf.  
  
"You'd rather die this evening. You would never know up ahead and far below. On a wing so out of line. Taken in so out of time. All it takes is living."  
  
The hard part was picking the right song. "She Knows" kept popping into my head, but it just didn't seem right. I mean, I wrote it for her and ... it just wasn't right. "Pain" would have worked too, but part of keeping the wolf at bay is trying to keep my inner cool. Singing about going insane and loading a gun probably wouldn't be too beneficial. And "Fate" seemed oddly appropriate.  
  
If what I hear is true, the green guy sitting in the back will be able to give me some direction. After all this, I hope he can. This is hard work, made much more difficult by the way he's eying me up. Knowing that he's inside my head makes me more than a little bit nervous.  
  
"I want to fly. I've never known fate. I've never known your name. I've never known fate. Someone take me home. Get me out of here."  
  
That pretty much sums up my feelings. Song done. Let me outta here! Even if I wanted to sneak out, though, I don't think I'd be able to. Green guy is making his way over here. And after literally baring my soul to him, I guess I should here what he has to say.  
  
"Well then," he says as he takes a seat. "Aren't you a little jeu de theatre? It's not often I get someone with real musical talent up on that stage. As you've probably noticed."  
  
All I can do is nod my head slightly. There isn't much for me to say. Besides, the Host seems talkative enough to make up for my slightly taciturn nature.   
  
He leans in closer as he continues. "Well, I know you've been on a long trip, so I'll get straight to the point. The truth is that you've already been to the place you belonged. You found your purpose, but at the time you weren't ready for it. And it wasn't ready for you."  
  
It wasn't ready for me? What kind of logic is that? Unless he meant ... "Willow? Because I just saw her and she was still ..."  
  
"Playing for the other team. Yeah, I know. She's not your future. A part of it maybe, but she's not it. You didn't need me to tell you that." He smiles slightly, and I get the feeling he might understand a little something about what I'm going through. Something in those red eyes of his ... he's seen the kind of pain I'm feeling right now.   
  
"You've been there," I don't ask. I know. "You wandered and searched but still couldn't find where you belonged."  
  
With a nod of his head, he answers. "But I eventually found my way here. And the gift you just showed me will help you find the place you belong, too. Because you see people. Not the masks we wear or the fronts we put on, but the real person behind the facade. You see the world for what it is. When the answer is so obvious that everyone overlooks it, you're the one who stands up and says 'Duh!'" He takes a sip of his drink. "Although you're always more gentle than that. I admire that. Tact is one of those social skills I've never mastered."  
  
I sit there for a few minutes before I realize he's not going to go on. Is that it? Don't tell me I went through that kind of torture and that fortune cookie is all I'm going to get out of it!  
  
For once I must not be doing a very good job of keeping my feelings off of my face, because eventually the Host continues. "I can't tell you everything. I know you've heard that before, and it must be a real kick in the pants to hear it again. But I really can't. Don't worry, though. You know everything you need to find your path now. And something tells me it won't be too long until you do."  
  
I'm about to give up in frustration when I realize that he's looking in a very specific direction, and obviously wants me to see something.  
  
Angel.  
  
Angel and Cordelia and ... Wesley? Well, stranger things have happened. I turn back to the Host to ask him what they're doing there, but he's already moved on to the next lost soul, trying to offer some direction. Doing everything he can to help as many as possible.  
  
Helping people. That's what Angel does, what they do. And suddenly it all makes sense. The first genuine smile to cross my face in years appears as I walk over to greet them.   
  
Time is healing, I'm ahead. Found my reason once again. 


End file.
